


Lucifer's Gem

by OakwoodOuroboros



Category: In a Heartbeat (Short Film), Welcome to Hell - All Media Types
Genre: Biblical References, Gen, Ghost!Sherwin, M/M, Massachusetts, Religious Themes, Sort Of, Welcome to Hell AU, bible belt, homophobia mention, romcom, suicide TW
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 14:07:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17920259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OakwoodOuroboros/pseuds/OakwoodOuroboros
Summary: Supposedly, if you're too good a person and you get sent to Hell, the Devil tries to get you back to his Dad as fast as possible. Something to do with a sweet soul "contaminating" damned souls, or something.Or at least he sends you back to the land of the living for a while, provided you do a small "favour".





	Lucifer's Gem

**Author's Note:**

  * For [athesisfilmdestroyedme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/athesisfilmdestroyedme/gifts).



> A gift to Thesis because you're the sweetest dude.

On one hand, Sherwin had expected to die the way he did. He had put himself at risk, that was not the question, but he hadn’t expected the afterlife to be so… boring. He was standing in a line of people in a hallway dotted here and there with potted plants, which turned out to be plastic, on closer examination. In front of him stood an old Asian lady wearing a ratty shawl and no shoes, and behind him an eight-year-old boy, he presumed, who somehow managed to look even thinner than himself.

The place was also windowless, which made the place all the more monotone. Once in a while, the line would shuffle forward, but that was seldom, and the only part of the long wait that was even slightly exciting.

Maybe this was purgatory, Sherwin reflected. He really hoped it was, because this most certainly wasn’t Heaven. Even when he tried to speak to the woman in front of him, he was ignored. He then turned to the boy behind him, but likewise got no reaction. They either didn’t speak his language, or more likely were completely oblivious to him even being there. Or maybe not, but they may have been lost in their own minds, and it was impolite and somewhat creepy to continue insisting anyhow.

So the boy waited in line, left with his own thoughts. He was worried, of course. Who knew what his fate would be, with all the things that had been wrong or maybe sinful in his short life, and whether they were outweighed by the good he hoped he had done. Would the way he had died impact his judgement? Well, he wouldn’t know until he was told, one way or another.

He examined himself. He had no mirror on him, so he wasn’t sure how his face looked like, but he could tell he had died in his school uniform. Some bruises were apparent on his stomach when he pulled his shirt up, but they didn’t seem as serious as he thought they would. His face didn’t seem to be too bad off, no swelling from what he could tell, and to his surprise, his glasses were still on his nose.

Well, that was a small comfort. There was nothing to inform him of the passing the time, however, so things seemed to drag on for an eternity, which was probably the case, if he were to be honest with himself. That was the thing about purgatory, it was designed to be boring. Instead, he counted the number of potted plants that he passed by, wanting to keep some sort of measure of time, no matter how frivolous it was.

What Sherwin hadn’t planned, however, was for this place to not actually be purgatory at all. To his surprise, he could see an end to the corridor, if he peeked his head around the old lady’s shoulder. People at the front of the line seemed to be waiting in front of what looked like an office door, the glass pane fitted in the eighties-style door a common sight in the school Sherwin had been going to until recently. Maybe this was judgement? A place where he will be evaluated, and sent to heaven or hell depending on his performance?

The thought made him beyond nervous. There were so many sins described in the Bible, there were some that were unpreventable, others that no one around him focussed on, and of course the ones he couldn’t quite remember, even in this state of panic he was now in. Time, deciding it was the moment to speed things up, brought Sherwin face to face with the office door before he even knew it. He hadn’t even noticed the lady, nor any of the other people that were in front of him, in fact, go through the door. Paralysed by fear, he remained motionless, save for his lips, frantically whispering a garbled Our Father.

Halfway through the Lord’s Prayer however, the door opened, and a snide voice interrupted Sherwin.

“Nothing of the kind will save you now, son.”

In that moment, the redhead wanted to run, to run as far away from the voice as he could, because even without seeing him with his own two eyes, he could tell that this person was none other than Lucifer himself. He wouldn’t have been able to explain the sensation, because it was by nature like so, indescribable, as was his sudden and unbidden urge to step forward through the door.

The door had not been lying: instead of the expected fireballs or frozen over lake, beyond the old rattly frame led to an office, as boring as the hallway that he had walked down. Even if there _was_ something amiss in the room, he probably wouldn’t have been able to see it straight away, not with the figure currently occupying his full attention, his very presence sucking all attention to him.

So, this was the devil. Looking at him, one could simply _tell_ this was Lucifer, with yet again that weird brain probing feeling that forced one to think of the name unprompted. He had an aura, a charismatic one, and in appearance was quite normal. Human. Hair as bright as Sherwin’s, face gaunt yet still attractive, and no wings or tail to be seen. Well, the fact that the front of his skull seemed to be caved in, and small shards of some shimmering blue stone imbedded there _were_ somewhat out of the ordinary, but really not much more.

Sherwin, as timid as he had always been, hesitated quite a while before sitting in the chair that the man pointed at. Had every single person who had ever died sat in this chair? With a shiver, he lowered himself onto the plastic and metal frame.

“Sherwin Payne, violent death, pretty clear record… A little bit of lust and envy, but… Hmm…”

Lucifer was poring over a file set out before him, which no matter how hard he focussed, Sherwin couldn’t read. The words were playing around the paper like snakes, and the small window that would have contained his photo alternated between him in his uniform, as a baby, as a young child with his taped-up glasses…

“Interesting… I don’t see any major sins that would have brought you here… In fact, with your credentials, you could have easily been promoted to angel by Dad… Ah well, must be a mistake, what with all the renovations.”

Whatever the devil himself was saying, Sherwin couldn’t make sense of it. “A mistake? But… I mean… I just _assumed_ I’d be here anyway, even if I am a good Christian and all, I’m-”

He stopped, swallowing his saliva nervously. “-gay.”

For the first time since he had entered the office, Lucifer looked up from the file set out in front of him. His eyes, deep wells flickering with dark flames, lured and trapped life like a fish in a net, a bait of light buried somewhere in the coils of the deceptive dark mist. Suddenly, he laughed.

“Good one, kid! Sexuality was _never_ a sin. Urgh, you mortals just change the texts to fit your morals. Speaking of which…”

The man stood up. He wasn’t any taller or impressive as any other human man that Sherwin had met, but when he got closer, heading to the door behind the boy, he seemed to tower over him, his shadow somehow casting him into darkness that could have been mistaken for dusk if the room had had any windows, that is. The neon lights buzzing overhead shouldn’t have had that effect.

Lucifer put his hand on the door handle and turned it, pulling it up rather than pushing it down. The glass went from frosted to clear, the similar neon lighting of the hallway changing to what could only be the flicker of flames.

“This is a mess,” the Devil commented, probably more to himself than to Sherwin. “The bureaucrats and the murderers are at it again.”

He had been stroking his auburn goatee thoughtfully, before he snapped his fingers, the sound so loud that it startled Sherwin. With a grin, the Devil turned back to his visitor, pushing the handle back in its original position before Sherwin could get a look at what was happening beyond the glass.

“I think I understand the problem now. It just so happens that the bureaucrats are not quite as concentrated as they should be these days, they probably just messed up your paperwork.”

As Sherwin’s heart sank, the Devil’s eyes became darker, and his grin wider. “Isn’t there… Well… A way to get it fixed?”

His voice was so small that he doubted the man had heard him. The Devil didn’t answer, but instead swept past him to sit back at his desk.

“No.”

He couldn’t help it. He had been so close, had died for something that wasn’t even a sin (if the devil himself was to be trusted in that respect), and was now stuck in… Well, Hell. It wasn’t something that he was going to take very well no matter the circumstances, but… This wasn’t _fair._ Of course, the thought passed his mind that this could all be a huge trick, this person was Lucifer after all… But still, he started to sniffle, eyes brimming with tears.

“Ugh, tone down the waterworks, will you? I see so many of those all the time… Anyway, I’m not sure where to send you, or if you might corrupt others with your… _Sickly_ sweet aura.”

The confusion of not knowing whatever he was talking about only made Sherwin feel worse, and when he felt worse he always, _always_ cried more.

“ _Fine,_ I’ll give you a chance to redeem yourself, just shut the Heaven up.”

Sherwin stopped immediately. What exactly had just happened? Had the devil, of all people, given him a second chance? There must be a twist, some fine print, and wouldn’t dealing with the devil make him corrupt anyhow, even if it were after death?

“Nah son, you’ll be fine, I just have to tell Dad that some stuff went a little wrong, is all. You know how he’s supposed to be omniscient? Well, that’s a lie. He doesn’t really care about what happens to you after death, you’re just another soul in the big bucket of Heaven, Hell, Purg or whatever, waiting for the end of times and all. Dad basically just ignores anything semi-transparent.”

Did the devil just read his _mind_?

“Heaven yeah I did,” he confirmed, smirking all the while. “Now enough chit-chat, I need to get that case file for you…”

There was a drawer at the back of the room, an old fashioned, rattly thing that reminded Sherwin all too much of the one in which his adoption file had been in. Why potential foster parents had to know every single detail about the kid from the second they were taken into the system, he did not know. Miserably, he wondered if his homosexuality would have been recorded in the same plain file, if ever he had somehow survived the battering that he had been subjected to.

“Probably,” the devil answered, which made Sherwin jump and try to quieten his thoughts. “American foster care in the Bible Belt? Please. They’re already bad enough as it is.”

From then on, Sherwin protected his thoughts by thinking as loudly as he could the words of Our Father over and over again. Lucifer seemed to lose interest in him after that, returning to the task that was retrieving the case fie he had been looking for. With a flick of his wrist, he pulled on the drawer handle, the whole thing rolling on its rails way further than any other drawer would.

“Ah, I knew it wasn’t too deep in,” Lucifer exclaimed, pulling another yellow file out. “Well, I guess I do consult this a lot.”

The redhead’s file was soon covered and hidden under the one that the man had pulled out. With deft hands, looking like white spiders to the boy, he flicked through the pages, pulling one out and handing it to Sherwin.

“Jonathan Sharma. Your job is to make him commit suicide, by any means necessary. Now, off to work.”

Sherwin felt his stomach rise to his mouth, his whole body floating for a second or so, before the scene brusquely changed and he fell to the floor. He was now on a small street that he didn’t recognise. He was about to freak out, when he looked at his hand holding the paper. It was milky and transparent. He got up, took a step back, but he was _floating_.

A few more verses of the Lord’s Prayer calmed him. God was on his side. Maybe. Or the Devil. Nevertheless, he was safe. With trembling hands, he started to read his mission statement.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back! Not sure for how long, but I might as well post while it lasts!


End file.
